Author's Note: Chapter Originally Posted on Ao3, Dec 4th, 2023

Past & Present

Morning came, much to Erik's displeasure. Not that it was a new day, but rather the simple fact it occurred sooner than he preferred. An angel asleep in his embrace was something he never wanted to give up. Not for one single second.

The world demanded otherwise. Rise early and go about existence and monotony until the day saps one's energy, collapsing into bed to start it all over again. While he was not affected by this churn of life as others were, it still had tendrils that pulled at him. One such tendril was Christine, whom he was more than thrilled to have in his life in every respect.

Erik stood, dressing in front of the bureau in his room come morning, buttoning his shirt and debating which set of cufflinks he would select for the day. The tasks were little more than an automation of his routine as his mind drifted over everything that happened from yesterday morning to this morning. Apart from likely getting himself banned from future rehearsals, despite the clause in Christine's contract, the day went better than he ever hoped.

In that joy, and that precious time shared with Christine, certain realizations came to light that Erik did not expect, resulting in a horrid conundrum. Gustave was not the ghost haunting his mind. Christine – who died – haunted him too.

It was a maddening concept that brought him renewed pain and grief. He had Christine here and now, in the strongest relationship he ever had with her, yet Erik found himself missing and grieving the Christine of then. It both made zero sense and ultimately, all the sense in the world.

The Christine he grieved was the reason for everything that transpired now. He fell in love with her. She shaped him, inspired his desire for change to become worthy of her, and his wish to do right by her.

Erik closed his eyes as he pinned the cufflinks in their place, then rested his hands to grip the edges of the bureau, in a small attempt to remain grounded.

It was a horrible predicament that he found difficult to define. There was a measure of guilt for sharing in the activities they had ventured into, almost as though he was being unfaithful to Christine—with Christine. They were the same woman who, by circumstances he created, were so very different from the other.

The one he had here now exuded life and happiness to such brilliant radiance that he had never seen in her before.

The one from his past was once happy; until he and de Chagny destroyed everything that made her so wonderous, one bit at a time. Christine lacked her brightness on Coney Island, up until the moment she sang. Singing restored her light and beautiful spirit, it restored her… and then…

Erik swallowed hard, looking down at the ring on his small finger as he gripped the mahogany, staring at the onyx stone on the gold band. It was one of the few keepsakes he had and managed to keep throughout the years. He saw her when he looked at it. Thought of her; imagined her, missed her… his love. His muse.

"Will I always think of you? Will you haunt me too, like our son?" he whispered. "I will go mad if I continue to think of you like this." The beautiful face of that older Christine seemed to reflect off the gold of the ring. "I cannot risk our happiness again…"

If only he remained somewhat sensible the first time around, none of this would be a problem. But then, he would lack all the knowledge he gained through the years and not be the man he was now for her.

"Erik?" Christine called through the door.

The face of other Christine vanished from the reflection, and Erik lifted his eyes from the ring towards the door, his breath hitching at just the sound of that heavenly voice. "Just a moment, my dear," he said as he closed the bureau. It served his needs better than a typical dresser.

When it was open, it provided a suitable writing surface with cubbies and small drawers which were meant for instruments of stationery. However, it suited him best as a way to organize all his necessities such as cufflinks, timepieces, cravats, ties, decorative pins— all his necessary daily adornments. A few more functional items like masks in the slots meant for parchment cards, small knives, and lock picks, found their way into the bureau. With the standard drawers below the work surface, he had suitable storage for everything that did not need to be pressed and hung.

After a quick adjustment of his favored slicked-back wig and mask, Erik grabbed his black jacket from the valet stand next to the bureau and proceeded to pull it on as he went to the bedroom door. Upon opening it and joining Christine in the small passage, Erik's knees felt weak at the sight of her.

Christine's eyes shone so bright, and she glowed in her warmth, for him.

"No L'Chantseur today?" she asked with a hint of disappointment in the lilt of her voice.

"Unfortunately, there are matters I must attend to, such as making sure I can offer you a better meal than just a bit of cheese and bread."

"I rather enjoyed that," she replied with more heat growing in her already radiant cheeks.

The bashfulness drew out a small smile from him, knowing quite well that she was thinking of dessert. "As did I," Erik agreed and held out a hand for her to take. When she did, he brought her knuckles to his lips for a chaste kiss before guiding her to the stairs with him.

"Did you… plan that?"

Erik led her down several steps before he formed an answer. "If the opportunity presented itself, yes. I had intended to do so earlier in your room, however my excitement got ahead of me at your compliment."

Christine gave his hand a squeeze.

"You however, were of a similar mindset when you came down."

"Maybe…"

"She said coyly," he teased when they reached the main level and he turned to face her while backpedaling towards the door.

"Can you blame me? You make me so giddy that I hardly can think straight when I'm in your company."

"Giddy? That is a new one…"

"I am not sure how else to describe it, only that I enjoy our time together and…" she trailed off.

Whether it was a loss for words or her own nerves, Erik was not certain. He gave her a chance to complete the thought as he pulled her cloak from its hook and draped it around her shoulders. When she remained silent, he pulled the length of her hair out from under the cloak and rested his hands upon her shoulders in a gentle prompt "…And?"

Christine dipped her chin and reached up to grasp his right hand, "You don't treat me like a child."

Erik squeezed her shoulders and nuzzled closer, his cheek against her temple. "You have an innocence that I find endearing. However, seeing you grow into the vivacious young woman you are becoming, is infinitely more alluring."

Christine turned to him and pressed her hand over his heart, shaking her head to herself before she met his gaze with those beautiful sapphires. "You have such a beautiful soul, Erik," she murmured. "You have taught me to see with my heart, and not with my eyes."

Erik's eyes closed to hold back tears as her free hand came to cradle his masked cheek. His tears were not for her words, as touching as they were, but for the lesson he heard her impart to their son, twice. 'The heart understands… the heart never lies…'

"In learning that, I can see the world differently. I guess, that is making me more confident in myself and… vivacious."

Whoever made the first move mattered little when their lips joined in heavenly sweetness. Needful yet chaste. Their exchanges of kisses were a salve that soothed weary and lonely souls who found comfort with each other. They were different people, from vastly different walks of life. He was the darkness and she the light. But despite all of their differences, they were the same. The core of their beings, that very essence made them tick and process the world, was the same.

How they handled their unique perceptions was, of course, immensely different from the other's. Erik defaulted to negative cognitions and scraped and struggled his way to a more positive thought pattern. Christine however, was his opposite, as she found the positives in everything first. Only some creature like him had a way of dragging her down to the cold depths of negativity.

He had dragged her unwitting spirit into the morass before and splattered her soul with globs of tar from that black pit of his misery.

Not again.

Never again.

While Erik strived to make every effort to avoid making those same mistakes, he knew that endeavor was not always as simple as he hoped. Mistakes would come. He only hoped they would be at a minimum.

Erik was slow to part their saccharine kiss, but the torments of his mind stymied the kindling of urges that would make her unforgivably tardy to her obligations to the world above. "I cannot be the cause of you being late, my dear," he sighed, as he brushed his knuckles over her cheek.

"Will I see you after rehearsals?"

It was a good question, but he knew what lay ahead in the day. Between errands he had to accomplish that day and possible objectives he was debating on addressing, Erik was not confident if tonight would be a good night for their budding start of a proper courtship. "I am not yet certain," Erik sighed, as he collected his cloak and slid it over his shoulders in graceful ease. "I will leave a rose on your vanity once I know, and you can check for a note behind that mirror. We cannot risk someone reading my notes to you in this instance."

Christine's head dipped to her chest. "You saw."

Erik adjusted the cloak's collar around the back of his neck and was stiff in his response, "I did." He was waiting behind the mirror when Christine returned from her luncheon with that entitled dolt, Raoul, who read his note to her.

"I didn't…want to," she murmured, in growing timidity.

Erik caught her chin with a finger, and lifted it to the usual tilt she had when she looked up to him. "It is of no consequence. Should he impose himself upon you again, merely declare your status in courtship."

"You make it sound simple."

"It is. Unless you have changed your mind about me being your Suitor?" That awful bite of darkness tore at his nerves, teasing cruel whispers in his ears of his immense insecurities.

Fight it! He told himself, but the teeth were already threatening to break thin skin.

Christine's hand fluttered over her face as she gathered her thoughts— carefully worded thoughts. "You are my Suitor, and I love you," she affirmed then said nothing more.

Erik's eyes narrowed. He believed her, but knew there was more left unsaid. He was torn between pressing for her to speak more and being pressed for time. In the interest of them and getting her to the surface, he chose the latter. It took a steadying breath to pry those ruthless fangs of skepticism from his inner dialogue.

The result was him shoving those negative notions and that conversation that dipped on the unpleasant, into that locked library in the corner of his mind that he never liked to visit.

"I love you," he uttered softly before turning to the door and opening it for her. In his effort to continue a pleasant conversation, Erik regressed to the prior topic as though the matter of the Vicomte never came up. "If I am unable to leave a note prior to you leaving for the day… I could call upon you at the Giry residence; if you wish."

Christine blinked rapidly, as she struggled to follow the turn of conversation.

"Otherwise, I was considering taking you out a bit more formally tomorrow… if you were wanting to spend at least some part of your day off, together," he raised a hand for her to take.

She blinked again, with a smile that seemed forced as she took his hand.

God, he was already fucking things up!

"I would like that. Both to spend tonight again with you, and tomorrow," she answered, giving a squeeze to his fingers and that bright smile blessedly returning. "Though, I would be lying if I said I wasn't curious about what you had in mind in taking me out."

Erik led her from his home and locked the door behind them with a wave of his hand. "Surprised?"

"Very."

Erik paused in leading her to the black gondola of his design, "With you at my side, I will be able to move about in daylight without being so readily shunned. While it is unlikely that I will ever take you to a restaurant, there are a few places I know of that I think you might like, which are both public and secluded."

"Sounds mysterious," Christine's grip tightened on his hand again this time, then stepped into the small boat with his support.

"Only fitting," he agreed with a small smile.